The Plug's Daughter

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The Plug's Daughter
Chapter 23: Securing The Bag
Houston,Texas

Alazhá's POV:

The morning sun spilled through the sheer curtains of Romani's bedroom, but Alazhá was already awake. She lay on her side, scrolling through emails on her phone while Romani's arm rested lazily across her waist. The notifications were piling up—vendors, branding designers, even a few inquiries from potential influencers wanting to collaborate for her upcoming hair company.

Romani stirred, his voice groggy. "You don't ever rest, huh?"

She smirked, not looking up. "The hustle don't sleep, and neither do I."

He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her shoulder. "You gon' work yourself too hard, boss lady."

"Nah," she replied, finally setting her phone down. "I just gotta make sure this launch is perfect. You know how much this means to me."

"I know," he said, his voice serious now. "That's why I'm gon' make sure you good. Whatever you need—money, connections, anything—you just say the word."

She turned to face him, a small smile playing on her lips. "I appreciate you, Bae. But you know I gotta build this on my own. I don't want nobody sayin' I'm only poppin' 'cause of my man."

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Aight, I respect it. But just know, I got you regardless."

Romani's POV:

Later that day, Romani was back at his trap, surrounded by his crew. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and tension. One of his runners had been coming up short lately, and Romani was in no mood for excuses.

"Dre," Romani said, his voice cold as he leaned against the pool table. "You think I'm stupid?"

"Nah, Ro, it ain't even like that," Dre stammered, sweat dripping down his face.

"Then why the fuck my money not lookin' right?" Romani snapped, slamming his hand on the table.

"I swear, bro, I—"

"Don't 'bro' me," Romani cut him off, pulling his gun and setting it on the table. The room went dead silent.

"Listen," Romani continued, his voice calm but deadly. "You got one chance to fix this. One. If my money ain't straight by Friday, you gon' wish you never met me."

Dre nodded quickly, his hands trembling. "I got you, Ro. I promise."

Romani leaned back, his face unreadable. "Good. Now get the fuck outta here."

As Dre scrambled out, Khoson shook his head. "You too soft on these niggas, Ro. They don't take you serious no more."

Romani's eyes narrowed. "Trust me, they know better than to cross me. I'm just givin' him rope to hang himself."

Meanwhile, Alazhá was out with her girls, hitting the mall to prep for the Bali trip. Zori, Mariah, and even Keisha had tagged along, their energy buzzing as they tried on outfits and debated over bikinis.

"This one," Zori said, holding up a barely-there two-piece. "It's screamin' vacation baddie."

Alazhá laughed, shaking her head. "Girl, you gon' get us kicked off the island."

"Let her be her," Mariah chimed in. "We tryna cause problems, not peace."

As they moved through the stores, Keisha lagged behind, scrolling through her phone. Alazhá noticed but decided not to press her.

When they sat down at the food court for a quick break, Keisha finally spoke up. "So, Zhá, what's up with you and Romani? Y'all official now?"

The table went quiet.

"Yeah, we are," Alazhá said, her tone firm. "Why?"

Keisha shrugged, sipping her drink. "Just wonderin'. Don't let him get in the way of your grind, though. You know how these niggas are."

Mariah rolled her eyes. "Keisha, ain't nobody askin' for your opinion."

"I'm just sayin'," Keisha replied, her tone defensive.

"Aight, y'all, chill," Zori interjected. "We not bout to argue in the food court like some hoodrats."

Alazhá sighed, deciding to let it go. "Keisha, don't worry about me. I got this under control."

Later that night, after a long day, Alazhá returned home to find a small box waiting on her bed. Her heart skipped a beat as she opened it to reveal a note in Romani's handwriting.

"You said you wanted to build on your own, but that don't mean I can't support you. Check your closet."

She frowned, confused, before walking over to her closet. When she opened the door, her jaw dropped. Inside was a brand-new MacBook, a professional camera, and boxes of custom packaging for her hair company, all embossed with her brand name in gold foil.

Her phone buzzed, and she answered immediately.

"Romani, what the hell is this?"

"I told you," he said, his voice smooth. "I got you."

She sat down, overwhelmed. "You didn't have to do all this."

"I know," he replied. "But I wanted to. You deserve it."

Her eyes welled up with tears, but she quickly wiped them away. "Thank you, Bae. For real."

"Ain't nothin'," he said softly. "I just wanna see you win."

That night, they ended up at his house, curled up on the couch, watching Netflix. As the credits rolled on another episode of Top Boy, Romani pulled her closer.

"You know you my peace, right?" he said, his voice low.

She looked up at him, smiling. "And you mine."

In that moment, Alazhá realized that despite the chaos of their lives, they were building something real. And she wasn't about to let anything or anyone get in the way.